The next morning, I was shocked when I looked at my face and there was no sign of the struggle I had been through the night before. I left the house in a daze and went to school. I knew that I was not going to be alone in the house with him, so I planned on cutting my last two classes and staying with my friends until I knew he had left for work. Returning home, there was a note to call my mother in his handwriting. When I called, I got home by a certain time each day, no exceptions, and no excuses. I was infuriated; naturally, she had not considered what transpired the night before. She was signing my death certificate. How could she pressurize me with such a stipulation? The security I experienced previously suddenly dissolved. I instantly feared for my life. As I started on my chores, I deliberated how I would exterminate my own life. At first, it was because I would not allow him to slay me. Indubitably, it developed into; who cared about me anyway, not even my own mother cared for my safety.
Lost in my thoughts of despair and planning how I would do the unmentionable, I could feel the helplessness washing over me. The next day I went to school and came home just as my mother ordered me. When I got there, he was there waiting fro me. He mentioned that he was missing some marijuana. I was not concerned with this because I did not smoke, drink or do drugs. Priding myself in this, I heard him say, “I know you took it and I am going to show you what happens to people who steal.” Wait did I hear that right, I was being accused of stealing and He was going to punish me for it. This must be a joke. I told him that he could not touch me and I would call my mother. He just laughed and explained he had told my mother and she had given him permission, for lack of a better word, to do what he deemed necessary. My heart fell once again, Could not she see through this. It was obvious to me. This was retaliation for my telling her I had been molested at his hands. I could feel my heart pounding. I started to search the room for something to protect myself. Even if that meant, actually taking my own life. I would not allow him to harm me. Before I could get a good planned mapped out he was hitting me with a belt. Swinging it wildly and letting it hit me where it landed. I screamed in agony, I yelled and tears flowed. It seemed to be happening in slow motion and the strikes from the belt seemed more intense and painful. Suddenly the phone rang. I ran to pick it up thinking it was my mother and she had realized what she’d done and was calling to stop him. Instead it was my next-door neighbor, they were hearing the commotion and wanted to know if I was all right. He took the phone and said everything was fine. However, I think this made him become a bit aware that he could not hurt me because there were witnesses. Therefore, he hit me a few times more and then stopped. When he left for work, my next-door neighbor came over to see if I was “still alive,” she’d confessed. I was even angrier. I turned my back on God, because how could God allow this to happen to me. I was just 7 when I remembered it first happening and now seven years later I was still tormented by actions, I had not invited nor wanted. It was not my decision to go through this. Why me?
In December, I was an awful mess. I had been cutting school more often, getting into fights. Everything I did was out of anger. I was not a happy carefree teenager, the things that other teens wanted and liked to do, did not interest me. Friends in Loomis, CA asked me to come up there for a few days. My mother said I could go and so I went. When I got there, I was this BIG city girl in a cow town. Loomis was like nothing I had ever seen before. I was more miserable and wanted to go home. However, I wanted to be away from the madness of my life.
You are Bound No More.
Pastor Linda Hillman
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